Claymore: Raki's Return
by Alai1231
Summary: What if Raki wasn't traveling with Priscilla? What if he participated in the second battle of Rabona? How would the Ghosts of Pieta react?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Claymore

"Mama."

The rain beat down on the battered form of a young girl as she slowly, painfully raised her self onto her haunches. Her metal plated white outfit in bloody tatters from Agasa's sneak attacks. The seven tentacles impaling her back weren't helping matters much either.

If she had the capacity for hindsight at the moment she would have realized that maybe pursuing the blind Galatea so mindlessly might have been not such a brilliant idea. After all while while the former number 3 was a formidable opponent, their previous battle having proved this. But Galatea was literally nailed to a wall, and missing an arm, while the giant, naked, tentacle swinging, **CRAB **lady was completely unscathed. Indeed she was the greater threat, what with her ability to not only attack from a distance, but to do it so subtly and swift for the young girl to not even notice her injuries until she was reduced to this pathetic state.

But Miata was never known for the those qualities. Indeed all the young number 4 was known for was her ability to ruthlessly slay her opponents with an animalistic single minded devotion. To make matters worse, the crab bitch had threatened the color hair, her precious person, her "Mama." This robbed Miata of what little ability to think she had left.

"I will forgive... **ANYONE** who bullies mama..."

_**THUNK-THUNK-THUNK-THUNK!!**_

Four more tentacles speared the poor girl through her midsection, taking the wind out of her sails before they could properly fill. Miata could do little more than cough as her strength fled in the face of her injuries. Her light blond falling over her face as she fell, landing facedown on the roof of some ruined building.

Agasa smiled cruelly at her opponent, "You can't even move... and yet you still talk big."

Miata's vision tunneled as her blood spilled out onto the shingles, robbing her of the ability to do anything other than whimper, "Mama...mama..." as if she would magically reappear and everything would be alright...

Agasa's smile widened slightly, "Alright, let's start with you."

As she prepared one last tentacle to remove this little pest she mocked, "JUST DIE!"

The wooshing sound of a body moving the air was all the warning Agasa had as a claymore streaked down at her head, "Hm?"

Then the blow landed, glancing off her raven-black hair/tentacles and slamming into her base right next to her, causing a formidable impact, "Wha-?" was all she could say when she realized that the colored-hair, the reject, number 47, the lowest of the low was **attacking her**.

Swiftly sending tentacle in retaliation, Agasa was even more shocked to see the weakest warrior of the current generation **dodging **her attack, and to make matters worse, the (relatively) dark haired girl had severed the tentacles pinning her young charge to the roof, and bodily carried her to safety.

All of this took less than 30 seconds.

That is not to say that this was an easy feat for the current number 47, Clarice. In fact the effort had thoroughly winded her, leaving her panting as she still held on to her battered charge with one arm, her claymore in the other, her whole body shaking until...

"GUUUAHHHH!!" she burst forth as her final wall crumbled, and all the terror she had been holding back came rushing to the foreground

"Why, why do I do these things?" she sobbed, "I was scared, there was no chance to win, or to escape!"

"But I didn't want to die! I don't want to die!" she admitted through the burning tears.

Miata looked up at her crying "mama', and tried raising her arm to comfort the only woman she saw as family, a soft, "Mama..." escaping her lips.

Unfortunately this had the opposite effect on the mentally strained Clarice, and Miata was rewarded with a glare, "I even thought you were scary too!" Clarice thundered causing the poor girl to nearly leap out of her skin, "Why...Why are you so much more powerful than I am even though you're smaller than me," clearly the orange haired girl was at the end of her rope.

Miata felt tears form in the corners of her eyes as Clarice continued, "You've faced many awakened beings alone up till now, and you've always come back unharmed. SO WHY ARE YOU BEING WOUNDED TO THIS EXTENT!"

Miata's tears were flowing freely at this point, "I'm sorry," the girl sobbed, "I'm sorry mama."

Her young charges response finally registered in Miata's mind, and she embraced the young girl fully, as a mother would her daughter, screaming at the top of her lungs to further purge herself of her fear, gripping the deadly young girl tightly, waiting for death.

-Claymore-

Meanwhile, on the outskirts of Rabona, a cloaked figure looked upon the burning, war torn city, and sighed.

"It's been seven years, and they still can't do anything by themselves," the cloaked cynic said, palming his forehead, "looks like I'll have to save them this time."

Suddenly, seven dark blurs sped past him and into the city, causing the wind to whip his cloak around.

"...Then again, maybe not." the man chuckled.

There was a tense silence until air was suddenly filled with eight loud booms, followed swiftly by an unearthly roar.

"What the hell, could be fun." the man decided as he ran toward the city, his cloak parting to reveal a massive great sword.

-Claymore-

Former number 2, "blood red Agasa" couldn't believe her misfortune. She had been an instant away from killing those little warriors, when the short haired bitch and her six friends intervened, not only knocking her to the ground, but also seeing through her disguise as a towering tentacle woman, and then destroying her armor with the utmost of ease. So here she was, truly naked this time, and cowering behind her hostage, God-eye Galatea.

"You think taking hostages will work against us?" the pompous bitch with the spiky ponytail asked her. Agasa seethed at the lack of respect she was getting until a horrible realization popped into her mind.

She was out numbered and over powered.

They were former warriors of the Organization.

She was going to die.

The whore with the single braid who knew her weaknesses was separated from the other six. Agasa smiled inwardly, if she was going to die, she was going to take one of those little bitches with her.

With no fore-warning she tossed Galatea at spiky hair, catching the bitch by surprise, and momentarily distracting the warriors. Short hair, twisty arm, and two-sword all sprung into action and leapt at her, only to find that she was already rushing the whore with the single braid, claws and fangs bared, ready to tear her limb from limb. Single-braid's eyes opened in fright and she tried to escape, but there was no time, and Agasa was about to rip through the little slut like she was a wet paper bag.

Suddenly there was a brownish blur in her way, but Agasa swung anyway, her claws hitting...

The ground.

-Claymore-

Tabitha didn't know what was going on anymore.

First she and the other six "Ghosts of Pieta," had attacked Agasa, and were winning. No, scratch that, they were dominating the former number two, forcing her to not only reveal her true body, (no small part was her doing), and had her cowering behind Galatea.

Then Agasa had tossed Galatea at Miria, distracting their leader long enough for her to evade a combined assault from Clare, Helen and Deneve, and rushed poor Tabitha, who accidentally isolated herself from the others.

But instead of feeling claws rip through her, she got the wind knocked out of her as someone significantly bigger than her bodily tackled her at high speeds, knocking her out of the way.

Now here she was, being gently cradled by two muscular arms against a muscular chest. His chocolate colored eyes gazing into her silver ones,the soft smile on his lips reassured her that the threat to her person was past. Here in his arms she felt...safe.

She hadn't felt safe since before she joined the organization.

"You alright," his deep voice inquired, snapping her out of her musings. And sending a pleasant shiver down her spine.

What was wrong with her?

"You shouldn't be here, you'll get hurt," Tabitha began, but stopped when his face split into a boyish grin, and the pleasant shiver returned in full.

Seriously, what was up with that?

"It's alright, you don't have to worry," he reassured her, setting her down gently and standing to his full height, a good head an shoulders taller than the assembled women. It was at that moment Tabitha noticed the enormous sword on his back.

"No," she whispered, horrified at the thought, "You're not thinking about fighting her are you?!" she practically screeched at her.

The man just just kept walking, and unsheathed his sword. It was an impressive blade, about as tall as an average man, with a blade as wide as a man's torso. Not something an ordinary human could wield without difficulty, (if it was even possible), and yet the man swung it casually onto his shoulder, as if he was a hybrid...

Agasa, who was pretty fed up with this new turn of events bellowed, "**IF YOU"RE SO EAGER TO DIE THEN FINE!!**" before rushing him, claws outstretched, slashing at him, willing him to die.

_**SHHHINNNG!**_

Agasa's eyes widened, (as did everyone else's) when the man parried her strike, the enormous blade now in between himself and the crazed Awakened Being. The man's grin was visible from underneath his hood, but his eyes now had an edge as sharp as any blade Agasa had encountered. But what really startled the monster, (and all of the gathered Claymores as well), was the fact that **he hadn't budged at all**.

"Well then," his eyes narrowed and his grin widened," Let's begin shall we?"


	2. Chapter 2

A/n Sorry about the horrible, glaring grammar errors last chapter, forgot to reread when I posted. Hopefully this chapter came out better. I could use some beta readers though. And some reviews, PLEASE!

Disclaimer: I don't own Claymore

"Let's begin shall we?" The man smirked, his body radiating confidence he should have no right to posses.

It was probably the sword. Any man who could swing that thing would have a bit of an ego.

Or it might have been the fact that he had used that sword to stop a blow from the former number two, in her awakened . A feat that should be impossible for a normal human. Hell, it would have been difficult for most warriors to do.

Either way, Agasa was righteously pissed now, it was just too much, first those seven bitches, who came from no where, thoroughly spanked her.

How else would you describe being ripped in half over and over until she was left to this pitiful state?

You know, a naked woman forced to hide behind a warrior posing as a blind nun.

And when she had tried to rip one of the bitches apart, this little bastard had robbed her the pleasure of a suicide kill! This man holding her off was **THE MOST HUMILIATING THING OF THEM ALL!**

Her arm muscles bulging to disgusting proportions, she hurled the man away from her, sending him tumbling through the air.

"**LOOKS LIKE,"**Agasa said in a demonic voice,** "YOU WEREN'T SUCH TOUGH SHIT AFTER A-!" **the words died in her throat as the hooded man spun in midair, his feet impacting the side of a building, causing it to crater slightly.

Time seemed to pass sluggishly as the man slowly (seemingly) crossed his arms in front of him, his great sword angled slightly behind him. And then...

The wall exploded outward as the man blasted toward the beautiful monster, his body nothing but a blur to the naked eye.

But with her eyesight being a hundred times greater than that of a humans, Agasa was easily able to keep track of him in the air. That this human thought he could keep up with her was both infuriating and pathetically amusing. She flexed her claws, ready to send this man to the hell he so justly deserved...

...When he disappeared.

Not a second later Agasa felt her back open up, and erupted in a fountain of purple ichor.

"Im...possible..."

-Claymore-

Miria couldn't believe her eyes, she couldn't believe what she was presented with as fact because it had to be wrong, there was no way...

...No way a human could move like that!

But at the last second this man had touched one foot on the ground, changing his direction and sending himself veering to the right, only to kick off the ground back towards the Awakened Being, touching the ground a third time to get a nice spin, and sent his blade ripping through the beasts back, scoring a critical blow.

In the blink of an eye.

Even to the "Phantom" Miria, the woman who could move so fast as to appear in several places at once, it was pretty damn impressive.

But, it would take more than that to kill something like Agasa. The beast spun around to attack the brave, (or insane) man with a fury that could shatter mountains, and sent swipe after swipe at the man, driving him backwards as he dodged, blocked, and parried the blows, sparks flying off his blade with each hit.

Miria wanted to jump in, to Mirage right over and get the foolish man out of harms way, an inexplicable urge to protect this man, to aid him, to thank him for saving their Tabitha. But something held her back. Some will was keeping her from acting. Sparing a quick glance at her comrades, she saw them in similar states.

Yuma looked both horrified at the thought of a human fighting something like Agasa, and awed at the fact he was holding his own.

Agasa swiped at him twice more, increasing the tempo of her blows, battering against his blade. But the man matched her step for step, and was able to ward every attack away from his person.

Cynthia was worried for the poor man, after his amazing first hit he was constantly being pushed back.

The man slid back slapping one hand to the ground to control himself. Before he could fully stop he had to bring his blade up once more to stop another hit. The sheer force behind it knocked him backwards, launching him off his feet.

Tabitha would have winced if she wasn't so shocked and amazed the man was still alive.

He spun in the air again so his feet hit the wall instead of his head, and he bounced back, swiping his sword twice across her shoulders as he sailed over her, landing with a roll behind her. Once again she erupted in a fountain of purple blood, the strength in arms now decreased significantly.

Helen grit her teeth. "Come on, come on..." she was muttering under her breath, "Keep it up, keep going..."

Suddenly Agasa lashed out with a mighty kick, knocking his sword to the left.

"Shit," Helen grit out.

Miraculously he maintained his grip on his blade and moved with it, turning his spin into a swipe that forced Agasa to jump back.

Even Deneve was into the battle, as she leaned forward slightly, her whole body tense.

He slashed horizontally, forcing her to duck. He followed up with an downward chop, forcing Agasa to cartwheel away, but allowing her to throw a kick that the man barely blocked, forcing him backwards again. Separating them.

Clare was the most animated. Her posture, her facial expression, everything about her was screaming her desire to kill Agasa, to aid the man...

To protect him.

They rushed again at each other, unleashing a flurry of blows at each other, while simultaneously parrying their opponents blows.

Galatea had a confused expression, being blind after all she didn't know what was happening except Agasa was practically bleeding Yoki energy.

Agasa knocked the man backwards.

Clarice, the current number 47 could only watch in awe.

He slid to a stop and barely got his sword up in time for a guard.

Miata was riveted.

Agasa roared as she flew forward, her hand digging a trench in the ground. It then exploded upwards from it's rocky sheath, blurring up towards the man's blade.

His eyes widened.

A loud impact shattered all of the nearby windows, and then a ripping noise was quickly followed by stench of blood. The man cried out in pain. His guard had been shattered. Agasa slammed his blade upward forcing his arms above his head, and then slashed his midsection with her other arm.

Yuma's expression become unadulteratedly horrified

Deneve's eyes widened.

Helen screamed, "NO!"

Cynthia cried out.

Tabitha could only stare in a horrified stupor.

Miata's eyes widened.

Clarice unconsciously hugged Miata closer.

Galatea's confusion turned to fear for whoever was injured.

Miria felt as if she had been punched in the stomach.

Clare's expression promised carnage the likes of which had never been seen before.

-Claymore-

The man was sent sliding backwards, a trail of blood following him. Finally coming to a halt several feet away, he dropped to one knee, coughing, one hand holding his abdomen tightly trying to stem the blood loss.

As one, the Ghosts of Pieta launched at the awakened being; drawing swords, twisting arms, preparing their assorted techniques so as to completely and totally wipe that bitch off the face of the earth.

Agasa rushed the man, and closed the distance between them in the blink of an eye. As she raised her claw to finish the battle, to slaughter this fool so she she could revel in the taste of his guts. Never noticing the seven harbingers of death at her back.

Nor the one she was rushing so blindly at.

Wrapped so single mindedly in her assault, she didn't notice the shift in his feet, nor the tensing in his leg muscles. So enthralled by the scent of his delicious, warm blood, she failed to notice how little had actually left his body. And as she was so distracted by the glory of her kill, she failed to notice the smirk on her preys face.

She did notice it when he ducked, causing her claws to slash the top of his hood apart, exposing his sandy hair to the world, and suddenly her eyes widened in fear.

For though she was an Awakened being, among the greatest of the worlds monster's, in her current form she still had the anatomy of a human.

And so the air was blasted from her lungs as the man's right shoulder rushed forward to meet her, ramming her solar plexus, lifting her off her feet slightly. The man then wrapped the arm the shoulder was attached to around her slender waist, took a step forward, and tossed her into the air, right into the path of the approaching ghosts.

Agasa's last living sensation was that of her body being ripped apart.

Her next was of the fires of hell, if you believe in that sort of thing.

-Claymore-

Normally after killing an awakened being, Clare flicks the foul blood off her sword, sheaths it, and then retreats to the back of the ground, letting the more charismatic, (relatively), members of the group do the talking.

But not this time, not when this man stood in front of her, so familiar, and yet so different at the same time. His face, his smell, his hair, they were so like the person she searched for, it was painful. But his body was so different, he was so tall, he couldn't be the small boy that used to follow her around.

Could he?

The wind picked up, making his shoulder length hair dance lazily, lifting his bangs slightly.

Clare's claymore fell from her now limp grasp, her whole body having gone numb. There it was, where it had always been, the unmistakable proof.

The diagonal scar on his left eyebrow.

It really was him.

The man's face split into that oh so familiar smile, his eyes that oh so familiar brown.

"It's been a while, Clare."

"Raki..."


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thanks to all you guys who reviewed

Claymore number 28: in response to your statement, I did underplay Galatea's ability to perceive her surroundings, but she can't "sense" human activity in the same manner as she can with yoma. She can perceive her surroundings like any other blind person, through her other senses. When a human loses their sight, their remaining 4 senses, scent, hearing, touch, taste, are enhanced to make up for the loss. Since she is a claymore, her remaining senses are enhanced even more because of the yoma flesh in her. Thanks for the advice though! ;-)

Disclaimer: I don't own claymore, because if I did, I would kill the story.

The soldiers of Rabona could only gape as the meaty chunks of Agasa fell to the ground. "They-they did it? Wh-what happened? It happened so fast..." whispers flew through the ranks as the seven Claymores in black and the one lone man stood face to face with each other. One of the Claymores stepped forward, her whole body rigid, her beautiful face frozen in shock.

The man smiled, "It's been a while, Clare." the wind making his damp hair dance drunkenly.

The woman took a tentative step forward, "Raki?"

A silence fell over the assembled crowd, anticipation for the reunion of these two epic warriors filling the air, electrifying the night...

"OI! LET ME THROUGH! LET ME SEE!" and like that, the mood was destroyed as a lightly armored man with a ragged pony tail burst through the ranks, cradling his broken arm to his body; a heavily armored soldier with short-cropped hair and a large scar on his cheek bone right behind him. They took a glance at the two warriors, their heads swinging back and forth between them comically before they finally settled on the man.

Raki's lips quirked upward into a smirk, "Geez guys, I leave you alone for five minutes and look at what happens!" his sarcastic tone belied by his smiling face.

Cid grinned, "Shut it. If both my arms worked I'd belt you." Raki let out a hearty guffaw and clasped hands with the man, bringing him in for a brotherly hug, careful to avoid his broken arm.

"It's good to see you again." Galk's sincerity shined through again as he and Raki shared a manly embrace., "Both of you." he added as he looked over at Clare.

Cid and Raki both turned to Clare, "Heh, looks like you've loosened up a bit since we last saw you." Cid said as he looked Clare's new outfit over appraisingly.

Raki playfully slugged his arm, "Don't make me kick you again, pervert." The three men shared a laugh at that memory as Raki approached Clare, Cid and Galk retreating to the background. He turned the woman he had searched for for seven long years and opened his mouth to say something to her.

And was promptly silenced as Clare's fist blasted him off his feet.

The peanut gallery winced at the sound of the impact. Cid, Galk, Miata, and Clarice just gaped as Raki's large form flew through the air, a painful reminder of how strong these women really were. "Jeez Clare," Helen grimaced. Miria merely sighed, and the other ghosts shot each other confused looks. Wasn't Raki the name of the boy that Clare was searching for?

Galatea let out an exasperated breath as he heard the man land a good six meters from where he had been standing, but felt immensely relieved as she could still hear his pulse. "She really needs to get laid," she chuckled to herself, "all that pent up frustration will be the death of him."

"Unghh," Raki moaned as he held his jaw, wobbling to his feet. Soft footsteps approached rapidly, and he sighed, closed his eyes, and waited for another impact. He wasn't disappointed as Clare speared him to the ground, blasting the air from his lungs, and causing his already wounded midsection to throb in agony. This was not how he planned to reunite with her.

But then again, what did he expect after recklessly risking his life to fight an Awakened Being? In front of her no less.

Then he felt her arms wrap around his torso, pulling herself down into him, burying her face in his chest. "Idiot," softly escaping her lips.

Raki's pained grimace turned into a soft smile as he embraced her, rubbing circles on her tense back muscles to soothe the emotionally train-wrecked woman, "I know I am."

He put a hand on her chin, tilting her face up so her teary silver gaze met his steady brown one, "But I don't know any other way to live."

-Claymore-

This was not how she had planned on greeting her long lost companion; maybe a hug, or even a kiss perhaps. Then she would smile and tell him how much he meant to her and how good it was to be reunited with him again.

That was how she should have greeted him after their seven year separation.

Not with a sucker punch.

But the thought of him being out there, foolishly risking his life against creatures who were vastly superior to him in size, strength and ability in spite of his promise to her that he would live to see her again infuriated her beyond reasoning.

His flippant attitude with Cid and Galk about the matter, as if he hadn't just fought a former 20 meter tall crab woman, didn't help things.

But even so, her annoyance didn't justify sending Raki flying through the air, or tackling him to the ground when she knew he had a garish wound on his delicious washboard abdomen.

No! Bad Clare!

Not able to think of a way to apologize properly, Clare did the only thing she could think of and hugged the stricken young man, burying her face into his chest as her shame filled tears soaked into his soft leather tunic; chastising herself with a soft, "Idiot."

Clare stiffened when she felt his arms wrap around her petite body, but soon found herself melting into his embrace as his hands rubbed circles on her back, gently massaging her tensed muscles.

"I know I am," Clare's eyes widened in horror. He thought she was talking about him! But before she could take back what she said, before she could fervently express what she truly thought of him; how he was the kindest, sincerest, bravest, and most attractive man she had ever known, and she was glad that she could be reunited with him again, she was silenced by a soft hand on her chin gently tilting her face up to look him in the eyes.

"But I don't know any other way to live."

Clare broke, and forgetting where she was, or who was watching, pulled herself forward and crushed her lips against Raki's, catching him in a fierce, impassioned kiss that poured liquid fire in his veins, and had his toes curling from the sheer emotion behind it. It was a kiss Raki was soon, enthusiastically returning, sending waves of heat rolling through Clare's body, from her bosom to her toes.

God he was a good kisser.

"Woohoo! Go Clare!"

-Claymore-

As rude, uncouth, and tactless as the former 22nd strongest Claymore may be, even Helen knew that interrupting someone in the middle of a good snog was just plain low. That aside, the couple eating each others faces on the ground 20 meters away were outside, in front of a crowd of soldiers, and were quickly getting ready to go further than what would be considered appropriate, especially now that it was safe and the children were coming out.

So in a rare moment of benediction, Helen thought she'd spare them the embarrassment of becoming exhibitionists. She wasn't even the smallest bit jealous that Clare got the new guy all to herself, no siree. Not even that the guy was quite possibly the finest example of the male species she had ever seen, with his broad shoulders, toned torso, washboard stomach, nice butt, and the ability to fight alongside them against an Awakened Being.

.

.

.

Ok, so she was a _little_ bit jealous, but not much...

.

.

.

Really!

Anyway, she figured they'd forgive her this small embarrassment in face of the larger one they were about to create.

Though Clare's face as she helped the man to his feet, said otherwise.

After Clarice recovered from the shock of watching a man sent through the air, she quickly took stock of her situation. Seven Warriors, each wielding claymores but none were wearing the standard uniform. Instead they each had a personalized outfit made of dark leather and matching cloaks.

"Are they the ones who were thought to be lost in the battle in the north?" she asked no one in particular. Her attention was then drawn to the mysterious man, who was currently stripping his brown cloak and dark brown tunic off at the request of one of the unknown warriors, revealing not only his finely toned torso, (Clarice felt her face heating up,) but the many, many scars criss-crossing his body; some were jagged and curved, from an animal's, or more likely yoma's claws, some were straight from blades of steel and iron, there were even a few small, circular puncture scars from arrows.

But the greatest oddity was the bandages that covered his left forearm from wrist to elbow.

The warrior gave the man, Raki was his name, a disapproving glare, which he deflected with a nervous laugh, and proceeded to wrap some bandages around his abdomen, binding the open wound and stopping the blood loss, minimal as it was.

Galatea was startled from her concentration as she felt a gentle presence entering her mind. She turned to regard her aider, the Claymore with the two braids.

"Even though it's a deep cut it should be alright, since it was cut cleanly you should be able to regenerate it." Tabitha reassured her.

Comprehension dawned on Galatea, and with a soft smile gracing her beautiful, yet scarred face replied, "Oh...using yoki to help me recover and regenerate..." her tone then became slightly condescending, "But it's too bad, I'm a defensive type...I can just regenerate on my own."

If Tabitha was insulted she hid it very well as she only responded with a soft smile, "It'll be faster with two people, let me help you."

"How are your eyes?" Miria asked as she came over to check on the wounded, "Can those be regenerated?"

Cynthiaa shifted her position so that her hands were over the former number 3's scarred eyes, and with a frown responded, "That's a wound from a long time ago. I can enhance her healing and regenerating abilities, but..."

"Healing and regenerating depend largely on ones memory," Galatea finished with a resigned smile,"after so long it might not be able to regenerate to it's old form."

"You seem to not regret it," Miria stated.

"Why should I? It was my decision." Galatea said, trying to change the topic, "Besides, shouldn't you be worrying about your 'Knight-In-Shining-Armor?' He's only human after all."

Miria and Cynthia both turned back to where Clare was helping Raki stand up, something he seemed to be having trouble with, and would keep stumbling back into her arms. While their first thought was that he was merely fooling around with their short-haired companion, the exhausted look on his face said otherwise.

The sudden sound of a steel boot loudly stomping brought everyone's attention to the colored haired Claymore who was currently standing with her sword drawn in an aggressive stance, and shaking like a leaf in the wind

"Oh? What's wrong?" Helen mocked as her long-time friend Deneve merely turned her head to look at their would-be assailant,"You want to fight, kid?"

"No!" Galatea cried out in an attempt to spare the poor girl's life, "Her mission is to kill me!"

Clarice's jaw tightened as she felt hot tears stream down the side of her face, why did she have to be so pathetically weak at a time like this? Miata shadowed her "mama," curious about what would happen, and ready to support her to the best of her ability. Clarice tried to tighten her grip on her sword but only ended up shaking more violently. Why was she so pathetic? WHY!?

"I'm sorry about before, but I've done what I've set out to do," Galatea smiled, a goddess bearing kindness for the poor wretch, "My life is yours to take."

Clarice's claymore buried itself into ground as the current number 47 dropped to her knees. Her sobbing the only sound in the courtyard until she finally gushed forth, "Why do you say that? Can't you be at least a little bit terrible? How can I kill you after hearing all that?"

She sobbed a little more before continuing, "Or-Orders from the organization should be followed, and the one I'm supposed to kill is right in front of me. Tell me what I should do..."

"Don't return to the organization."

Everyone turned to regard Miria, "If you return to the organization refusing to kill Galatea, or claim that you couldn't find her or that she got away, you'll be charged with treason and executed on the spot."

"But, but if we don't..."

"Yes," Miria confirmed, "You'll be labeled as traitors and hunted down."

Clarice quailed at the thought of being hunted by the men who were responsible for creating her and all the other half-human, half-yoma warriors, the strongest of whom could kill an awakened being like Agasa with ease.

"If we stay here the organization won't come after us," Miria continued drawing Clarice's attention once more, "After all this is still the the Saints Capital, it's widely known that this town discriminates against us claymores," she finished with a cynical smile.

"It's a temporary solution," Galatea interrupted, "If the organization wishes to kill us, then they'll completely destroy this town."

"Well then, we can't just let that happen can we?" Raki spoke up as Clare helped him walked over to the gathering, "After all, if what you're planning is what Clare told me, you'll need a base camp."

"What?"

Miria closed her eyes, and took a deep breath, and when she looked upon the gathering again, her eyes were with a great determination.

"We are here to topple the organization."


	4. Chapter 4

Sorry about the update confusion earlier.

**Disclaimer: I do not own claymore**

"We are here to topple the organization."

"What?!" Clarice could only gasp in shock. Topple the organization, but that-that would mean...

"Are you serious? If you are, then I've got to say that you're too foolish and reckless," Galatea paused in her verbal lashing to gather herself, "To defeat the enemies of the 'Ghosts of Pieta' would you fight the warriors from the current generation?"

"It's not like that, our target is only the organization. We will not fight the warriors." Miria explained.

Galatea sighed, "If you fight against the organization it will send it's warriors out to hunt you, causing a pointless battle between the current and former generations." Miria had to bite back an indignant retort when Galatea added, "the former number 6, 'Phantom Miria,' should not have overlooked this."

"And what are you going to do about yoma?" Galatea continued, "Even though we're hated and despised by those we protect our purpose is to kill Yoma. Even though what the organization has done is unforgivable, it doesn't change the fact that without them the humans would be defenseless."

Raki's scarred eyebrow twitched in annoyance.

"Oh I get it now," Helen realized, "If there was no organization the humans would suffer, I never thought of that. Hey Deneve!"

Said Claymore just ignored her loud companion in favor of the slightly more important conversation before her.

_Miria faces a dilemma on her path to vengeance, _Clare thought as she gently set Raki down, receiving a somber "Thanks," _if she disregarded all humans it would be fine, but she's not that kind of person. What does she plan on doing?_

A pregnant pause fell upon the city of Rabona as everyone leaned in to hear what Miria's reply would be.

Miria sighed, _here goes nothing_.

"Alright, this is a good chance for me to tell you everything I know."

-Claymore-

A towel was set down next to the basin as Raki eased his aching body into the water, the relaxing heat do wonders for his poor battered muscles. Sinking down until he was mostly submerged, he leaned back so his shoulders and arms were resting on the sides, and just enjoyed the steam.

_That's no tub, it's a POOL!_ Raki chuckled at his first reaction to the sheer size of this hot tub. Turns out Rabona had a large hot spring market, this being only one of the many inside the massive city.

It was one of the largest, however.

Gotta love the church.

Now there was a funny paradox. Who would have thought that Rabona, the city that banned all Claymore activity within it's walls, was housing them inside it's main church, said church having condemned them for forsaking their humanity.

Fate is not without it's sense of irony.

_Speaking of irony_, Raki thought as he remembered Miria's speech earlier.

_"When I swore I would take my revenge on the Organization, I immediately fell into the dilemma Galatea brought up," Miria said. "So I started an investigation, looking for any information since I had none. I snuck into the archives, and traveled from corner to corner of this land in my quest."_

_Miria paused to catch her breath. "I learned quite a bit in my search, but the most shocking thing I discovered was a well hidden village, southwest of the Organization headquarters, that didn't know about yoma."_

Raki closed his eyes, and pictured all of their shocked faces upon hearing this, Miria had gone on, expanding upon how legends say that yoma have existed as long as humans have, so how could there be a village that did not know of them.

_"So a theory drifted into my head," Miria continued, barreling through everyone's shocked expression, "Yoma are created by the Organization."_

A wry grin appeared on Raki's face, now _that_ had blindsided _everyone_. Everyone had just stood there, a rather comical expression on their face as they had tried to process what they heard. A few, like the blind woman, had rejected it immediately, demanding proof for Miria's wild allegations.

_"But I do have evidence," Miria replied, "It's actually something that everyone here has."_

_"No, it can't be," Clare said as comprehension dawned upon her._

_"Your swords," Raki said, his face completely neutral._

Raki sighed as his midsection began to itch were Agasa had scraped him, the actual wounds having already stopped bleeding. 

_"This claymore," Miria stated, "If it's just for killing yoma isn't a little to solid and sturdy? This claymore has never broken in all the battles I've been in, never dented never chipped. It's as if, from the very beginning, it was made to kill awakened being, or others."_

_"Awakened beings..." Tabitha muttered._

_"Or others, what does that mean?" Deneve finished._

_"I've traveled all over this land, but I haven't found any minerals that are even close to this, I've also looked within the organization, but I could find where these were made," Miria said as she brandished her massive blade with one hand._

_"So I've come to the conclusion, that this claymore..."_

_"Isn't something that's made in this land," Raki finished. All of the Claymore turned to regard the man in shock, but Raki just looked up at Miria, all traces of fatigue gone from his face, "You are taking about the 'Outer World,' and the war with the dragon's kin right?"_

In retrospect, it may not have been such a good idea to horn in on Miria's parade, as he had completely put himself in the limelight. So many questions had bombarded him from all sides, asking how he knew about it, where he learned his information, or just open glaring suspicion on more than a few faces.

"I am such an idiot," Raki quipped dryly.

"Perhaps," a cool feminine voice remarked from behind him, "but you aren't without your surprises." Raki turned his head and saw Miria standing there behind him.

In nothing more than a towel.

Raki's cheeks instantly burned red, and he averted his gaze, "I-I'll get out now," he said, trying to get up and hide himself with his towel simultaneously.

"It's alright, you can stay. I wanted to talk to you anyway. Privately." Miria said, her voice soothing and alluring.

Raki heard the unspoken command however, and decided it would be wise to obey, "Did you finish negotiations already?" he asked as he lowered himself back into the water, forcing his body to relax again.

"More or less, we just have some minor details to go over."

"So you're going to use Rabona as your staging area?"

"That's the idea."

"I see."

"Now that the pleasantries are out of the way," _Uh-oh, here it comes,_ Raki sighed to himself, "How do you know about the 'Outer World' and the war against the dragon kin?" Miria demanded, her voice nothing but steel.

Raki just closed his eyes and layed his head back against the tiles. "How do you think?" he asked rhetorically, "I've been there."

"What!?"

He turned and looked her square in the eye, "I've _been_ there. I've _seen_ the battles, hell I've fought in a few, that's where most of _these_ come from," he gestured to the many scars that criss-crossed his body.

Miria's eyes traced his his well defined torso, noting the many, many marks on his body, most of which were predominately long slash and jagged claw scars. Her gaze then swept down to his abdomen and the scabs it bore, but she had to actually stop herself before her gaze traveled any lower. _This is NOT the time for that!_ she screeched to herself, her cheeks becoming a rosy pink.

Thankfully Raki seemed not to notice.

"H-how did you get there?" she tried to restart her interrogation, mentally kicking herself for the stutter, cursing her womanhood for it's untimely urges.

"Pure accident. I got shipwrecked, and floated on a plank until I finally reached land. I was half dead at the time, and passed out." Raki reminisced. "When I woke up, I was on a bed, in a cave, with a giant red lizard staring at me." he chuckled at the memory, "her name was Alexstrasza, and she had saved me."

"She saved you?" Miria parroted, trying to comprehend what she was hearing. This boy was saved by a dragon?

"Basically yeah. She saw me passed out on the beach, swooped down, picked me up, and flew me to her home where she tended to me." Raki said as he made various swooping motions with his hands for emphasis, looking for all the world like an overgrown child. Miria had to clamp down on the urge to giggle, Goddesses this boy was confounding. And cute.

Miria paused, where had _that _come from?

"Then what?"

"Well, when I was well enough, she took me before her king, to the Dragon God Bahamut-"

"Dragon God?"

"Yeah. Basically think of a salamander, paint it silver, give it wings and expand it until its the size of this city."

Miria gawked, "Seriously?"

"Yeah he's freaking huge."

"Go on," she pressed.

"Well, she took me before Bahamut, and explained how she found me. Bahamut then started asking me questions-"

"A dragon talked to you?"

"Will you stop interrupting?"

"Sorry."

"Anyway, Bahamut grilled me for who I was, where I was from, what side I was on, and was about ready to _eat_ me when I couldn't answer the last one. Thankfully, I was able to explain that I was just some guy who was in way over his head and had no idea what was going on."

Miria found herself leaning in closer, practically absorbing Raki's tale, and was shocked at how relaxed she was. What happened to her interrogation, where was the cold, calculating analysis she usually maintained.

"Long story short, they pressed me into service, taught me some new techniques, and gave me my armor. We fought together for about two years before Bahamut decided my sentence was over, and then they gave me a ride home with their blessings."

"Just like that?" Miria could tell there was something he had left out.

"Yeah," Raki didn't feel the need to elaborate, her memory was still a little too fresh.

Miria realized she wasn't going to get anymore on that subject. "Then how did you know about our swords?" she asked, curious but no longer suspicious, to Raki's enormous relief.

"Because in those battles I've fought men, and I've fought monsters, and they all had one thing in common," he looked her dead in the eye, "They all wielded blades nearly identical to yours."

Miria was about to respond when a sudden crashing was heard from the hallway. Curious, she stood up, along with Raki who grabbed his towel, and the two of them headed towards the door when it suddenly burst open. They instantly readied themselves, expecting an assassin or some other such attacker.

They were rather surprised when a small, blond blur hid itself behind Raki, gripping his arm tightly, and buried her face in his back. Raki blinked stupidly.

Miria was a bit quicker on the draw, "Hey, aren't you-?"

"MIATA! YOU CAN'T RUN NAKED IN FRONT OF PEOPLE LIKE THA-" Raki had a brief view of Clarice's beautiful, towel clad form, (_There is a god,_) barreling through the open door, eyes ablaze with fire and brimstone until her foot slipped on the wet tiles, and with a shriek she slid right into him.

Raki was taken off his feet by Clarice's sheer momentum, subsequently taking Miata with him; the three of them falling into the water.

Miria blinked, wondering what the hell just happened.

-Claymore-

"Ouch! Geez, do you have to be so rough?"

"Quit whining," Clare monotoned, before she tightened the bandages around his abdomen just a little bit tighter, eliciting another complaint from her companion.

After the Miata debacle, Miria had gathered them and with Raki's help, had explained about the "Outer World," the dragons, and the war between them and the Organization. Raki was able to add a large amount of information from his own personal experience. It had been shocking to learn what Raki had been up to for the past two years.

But he had been rather tight-lipped about the other five years, or why he was on that boat two years ago. It's not that he lied to her about it, it's just that when she asked he simply shook his head, and with a sad smile had said, "Another time, right now let's just relax." Then he had brought his lips to hers, a kiss she had eagerly returned.

She figured she should just be happy that he was alive and they were reunited again.

Clare was brought out of her musings when Raki undid the bandaging on his forearm, revealing his strangest scar yet.

It was a burn, but unlike any other burn scar she had ever seen before. It started up from his elbow, spiraling around his forearm like a serpent until it reached the back of his hand, where it split and the two ends widening yet curling inward, the inside edges were jagged like a yoma's fangs. It then split into several small shards that spread on his fingers.

"Raki," Clare asked, a slight quiver in her voice, "What happened?"

Raki saw her gaze on his arm and sighed, a sad look crossing his face.

"A gift, from a friend."


End file.
